You Did Say Anything
by streakie257
Summary: Oneshot. DL. Lindsay Monroe was probably the worst sick person on the face of the planet.


You Did Say Anything

**Disclaimer:** Don't own it, but I do plan on asking for it for my birthday.

**A/N:** The plot of this story has been used in different applications with different stories as well as fan fictions. It also happened to my brother; just wanted ya'll to know I'm not ripping you off. However I am mocking you Elliot!

**Summary:** Lindsay Monroe was probably the worst sick person on the face of the planet.

* * *

Danny Messer checked the slip of paper again; he had to have the wrong apartment. The sound behind the door was a smoker's cough, loud, raspy, at least an octave lower than Montana's usual voice. But Stella had written the address, there couldn't be anything lost in translation, her handwriting was too neat. So he sighed, stuck the note in his pocket and knocked on the door.

Hack, hack "Just a" wheeze "sec." There was scuffling sounds from inside, he couldn't identify what exactly was going on, she sounded like she was going to lose a lung. It took an eternity for the door to open but it eventually did, very slowly, like she could hardly muster the strength to open it. He was shocked by how fragile she looked. Her hair was damp with sweat, she was pale as a ghost making the dark circles under her eyes look almost black in contrast, her nose was bright red, and her body creaked and pained her. He could see it in her eyes, their expressiveness painting a picture of how she felt. She stepped back and allowed him in, asking,

"What are you doing here Messer?" it took effort for her to speak.

"I've got soup for you, as well as other kick knacks from the rest of the lab." He replied gesturing to the bag and thermos in his hand. She gave a small smile and pointed to the kitchen, the second he stepped away from her she ran to out of the room, he could hear her dry heaving. He threw the stuff down and rushed to hold her hair back, but nothing came up. Eventually she collapsed, hitting her chin and starting a little trickle of blood on her lip. He felt terrible for her but couldn't help but laugh at her, if it was going to go wrong it was going to go wrong with her. He wetted a cloth and wiped her face, looking he could tell despite the sponge down that she was crying. She tried in vain to push him away, get up and say she could handle it herself. But the optimal wording was 'in vain' she couldn't support herself and wound up defeated on her bathroom floor.

"I hate my life!" she half groaned, half sobbed. Danny couldn't hold his chuckle.

"You, Lindsay Monroe are probably the worst sick person on the face of the planet." He said before kneeling beside her and picking her up carefully. One defeat made her weary of another one and she didn't try to tell him to put her down. He carried her like that other time on the case, but this was in everyway more intimate, and yet he didn't mind. Tucking her into bed he rationalized away his worries about intimacy and got the soup and stuff. He would've done the same things if this was Stella. Except deep down he knew he wouldn't…

She had eaten, thanked him, given him messages to deliver, nearly thrown up again, taken more medicine, and was now trying to salvage her dignity.

"I appreciate this Messer, I really do, but you're a CSI not a nurse, go back to the lab, give everyone my live and let me die here in peace." She said waving him out of her bedroom. He sighed but didn't argue he knew that he hated people coddling him when he got sick.

"You have my number, if you need anything, anything, call me ya hear?" he said, she confirmed that she heard and he left brain buzzing.

* * *

He was just stepping out of the elevator at the parking garage when his cell phone rang, flashing Lindsay's cell number.

"Taking me up on my offer, Montana?" he asked by way of greeting, there was a sigh.

"I realized I did need something." She replied.

"'Kay let me get a pen." He gets in his car and grabs a pen, holding the phone between his ear and shoulder he poises the tip over his left hand. "Shoot."

"Okay," she said breathily, her cough was giving her trouble again. "I need Sudafed, More saltines, carrots – the little kind that come wet, more green tea and honey, and…" she paused.

"And?" He looked at his hand that was already covered in notes, not just the list, he was a CSI and by the information stretching over his palm and the back of his hand you could tell.

"God this is really embarrassing…" he mentally told her to get on with it. "Ineedtampons" it was soft and fast and he didn't catch it the first time.

"What? I didn't hear you." He said.

"Never mind, I'll just call Stella or something…" she said hurriedly.

"Bullshit, just tell me what you need; I'm already picking up little wet carrots for you." Danny replied.

"I need tamp…" She mumbled.

"I still didn't hear you."

"I NEED TAMPONS" she yelled, the phone slipped from its resting spot and he stared at it for a moment before picking in back up.

"Oh." He said.

"Slims, unscented." She elaborated; he scribbled the information up his wrist and said,

"Anything else?"

"No. Thank you Danny, for everything. You're a saint." He liked the way that sounded coming from her.

* * *

There were too many damn brands of 'feminine products.' Danny Messer looked lost as an Iowan in Manhattan as he stared down the women's aisle. He had put this off for as long as possible, taking his time deciding on how many bags of carrots and saltines to buy but he was now down to this. The lion's den.

"Can I help you?" a youngish clerk asked snapping him out of his feelings of being overwhelmed.

"Um yha…" he said uncomfortable. "I need uh, tampons…" the word was awkward and hard to say. "Slims, unscented." The clerk nodded and led him down the aisle and handed him a blue box.

"Thank you." He said still uncomfortable as hell.

"Don't sweat it, my dad still has nightmares about this aisle, she must trust ya." The kid was quick.

"Or enjoys torturing me."

"Either way she's a good thing." The clerk left him to pay and ponder.

* * *

"Thank you soooo much Danny! You are my hero." Lindsay said taking the bag he offered her.

"You owe me big time Monroe." He said grinning wickedly, he knew full well he was going to cash in on that sooner or later and it would be sweet.

* * *

_A/N: the story with my brother is, Bridget (his girlfriend) got sick and since he is a well trained young man and a great boyfriend he asked what she needed. Well her list and Lindsay's list matched. The only difference is he called me and even though he was at school and I was at home I had to walk him via phone down the tampon aisle. He still brings that up when he wants to give Bridge a hard time._


End file.
